


Keep Running

by brothersinsync (ceoriginal)



Series: Endverse: The Long Way 'Round [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Gen, Louden Swain - Freeform, Louden Swain SPN Writing Challenge, croats, gamma ray - Freeform, impala damage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceoriginal/pseuds/brothersinsync
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has said Yes to the devil and the Croatoan virus has started to spread across the globe. Dean and Cas are just trying to survive with Castiel's grace fading and Dean losing hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Running

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the [Louden Swain SPN Writing Challenge](http://mrswhozeewhatsis.tumblr.com/post/148034438221/louden-swain-spn-writing-challenge)  
> Prompt: [Gamma Ray](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65pc9dyrfnc) [Lyrics](https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Louden-Swain/Gamma-Ray)

“He had to have said ‘Yes’, Cas.” Dean was sitting on a couch staring at the wall. Around him a few hunters stood sentry at the windows, making sure to stay behind the curtains. The lights were off and a family was huddled in the corner around a large arm chair.

“You don't know that, Dean.” Castiel was pacing back and forth in front of a large television on the wall, trench coat billowing out behind him. President Palin was making a statement urging people not to panic, but to stay in their homes until they had more information.  
  
“How else do you explain the sudden zombies everywhere?” Dean glanced over to the father of the family, standing behind the chair, his hand on his wife's shoulder. A little girl sat in the woman's lap. “It's gotta be that virus from a few years back. The, ah… Croatoan.”

“Even so, Dean, you don't know it was Sam. You haven't seen him in years. Maybe you should try to find him.”  
  
“I don't think zombies is the right term. How about Croats?” Dean went back to staring at the wall. Castiel stopped pacing and stood in front of Dean. Behind him, Palin danced around questions from the press.  
  
“Even if he did, you should be proud of him holding out all these years. We have had time to prepare.”  
  
Dean scoffed. “Yeah, thanks Sammy. 2012. End of the world.”  
  
“Dean, I-” Castiel was cut off by the hunter at the front window.  
  
“Get that TV off. I see a crowd coming down the street.”  
  
Castiel waved his hand and it cut out, plunging the room into darkness. The only sound came from the girl whimpering as her mom rubbed her hair. Dean stood and went to the window.  
  
“Where, Craig?”  
  
Craig pointed and moved out of the way so Dean could peek through the curtains. Across the street earlier, some oblivious person had had the TV flickering, but now the big picture window was smashed in and everything was dark. He looked down the road so see a bunch of ungraceful people with weapons.  
  
“Looks like the same group from earlier,” Dean said with disinterest.  
  
Craig moved over to the family and spoke quietly. “I appreciate you letting us in your house, but I think you should go to the basement until they move off again.”  
  
The father nodded and got his family moving.  
  
The second hunter, Johari, still staring out her window on the side of the house started waving her hand around, frantically. Castiel moved over to her. She whispered to him and he looked out her window. His eyes widened and he backed away wordlessly.  
Dean moved away from the window as Castiel walked up to him and leaned in. Craig was looking out Johari's window as Castiel whispered to Dean. “There's a small group of people in the side yard.”  
  
“Croats?” Dean whispered.  
  
“Croats,” Castiel answered.

Dean nodded and went back to sitting on the couch, throwing his boots up onto the coffee table. What was the point? The world was ending. Lucifer had won. His brother was lost. “Dean,” Castiel hissed.  
  
Dean shushed him, but Castiel didn't listen. He sat down next to Dean on the couch.  
  
“What are you doing?” Castiel said, half turned to face him.  
  
“Hiding,” Dean said. “That's how we get through this, Cas. We hide until they go away.”  
  
Dean knew they couldn’t hide forever, but he was trying to be smart about this. Rushing off into the night was as good as inviting the Croats in for dinner. And then Sam would find them. Lucifer, he thought, not Sam. Lucifer would find them. Dean knew what had to have happened even if Castiel didn't want to admit it could be possible. Sam was gone. He tried to get out of the game and Dean hadn’t run after him, begging him to stay and help. No, Sam had been a liability. He was out of control with the demon blood and let the devil out in the first place. If Sam couldn't hide well enough to stay away from Lucifer, how was that Dean's problem? And now the world was falling apart and Dean didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to think about anything. So no, Dean wasn’t going to fight, he going to sit here and wait until they went away.

The front door smashed open, the wood splintering at the door jam and flipping into the foyer. Craig and Johari ran to meet the Croats streaming into the house. Castiel yelled at Dean to get off the couch and help. He didn't move. He watched as Castiel moved into the fray, trying his best to keep the Croats from the living room. Craig and Johari soon were covered in blood, but still they fought.

“Get him out of here,” Craig yelled to Castiel. “No point in all of us dying.”  
  
Castiel looked at Craig and Johari one last time, taking in the cuts and gashes on both of them. He sigh resigned and nodded.  
  
Dean watched as Castiel came over to him quickly and tried to protest, but Castiel’s hand was on his shoulder and he was suddenly in the impala.

They had parked her a few blocks over.  With the Croats on their tail, the 4 of them had stormed the house Castiel had just zapped them from.  If not for the idiot across the street with his lights blazing, they wouldn't have made it unseen into the backyard and up the back steps. They had all but forced their way past the family and killed the lights.  Once the family understood the situation, they had cooperated even as they huddled in a corner, like family would keep you safe. Dean had actually laughed out loud at that thought, earning himself a few glares from the hunters with him.

Now, back in the impala, Dean pushed aside thoughts of Sam and really tried to focus. What was he doing wallowing? He was going to get himself killed. Or Castiel. He looked next to him to Castiel in the passenger seat. He was slumped against him and coughing.  
  
“Cas?”  
  
“I'm fine, Dean,” Castiel said breathless. “Just get us away from here.”  
  
“Didn't we decide you weren't going to use your grace like that?”  
  
“We also-” A breath, “-decided we were not giving up.”  
  
Dean narrowed his eyes at the top of Castiel’s head and shoved the key into the ignition. He started the car punching the headlights on and immediately regretted it. There was a man in the road in front of him about 100 yards off. The man’s head whipped around to face them as the light hit him. He started running for them. And he wasn’t alone. From out of the trees, more people started running at them from all directions.  
  
“Hang on,” Dean yelled to Castiel and threw the impala into reverse. He gunned the engine and she took off, barreling down the narrow road they had left her on. He hit someone with the rear bumper and they flew over the vehicle. He didn’t look to see if they cleared his car, but kept his eyes focused on the road trying to anticipate the curves and bends as he sped through the night, deep in the woods of Connecticut. He wished he could find a spot to turn around. He knew he could go much faster going forward no matter how dark it was.  
  
“Cas,” Dean called without looking, “how are we looking?”  
  
Next to him, he felt Castiel shift.  
  
“We are ahead of many of them, but--” Castiel coughed before continuing, “a few have jumped on the vehicle as we passed them.”  
  
“Oh crap. They are just hanging on? Are we dragging them?”  
  
“No, they are climbing the hood.”  
  
Dean tried a few tiny swerving maneuvers, but didn’t have much room for it.  
  
“Grab my gun, Cas. Come on. Shoot them.”  
  
“Dean!”  
  
Dean saw it too. Both front doors opened from the outside, hands snaking down from the roof and grabbing the handles. What he wouldn’t give for automatic locks sometimes. The trees were too close to be driving like that and Dean flinched in anger as the doors ripped off the hinges when he collided with trees on both sides.  
  
“Cas, the gun. Come on.”  
  
He felt Castiel grab his pistol and heard the gun go off 3 times right next to his ear. Castiel shot something behind him in the driver’s doorway.

“That one fell off, Dean.”

Castiel then turned and aimed at his own doorway. Dean could see out of the corner of his eye that no one was there, but Castiel kept up the vigil. After a few tense, quiet moments, Castiel spun and shot through the windshield.  Scoffing, Castiel tried again. Apparently he had missed.  And then the gun was clicking. Empty. Dean could hear what sounded like someone punching the windshield.  
  
“Cas, hold on to something.”  
  
The road was opening up behind him and he judged the width he’d need quickly. Dean cut the wheel hard, throwing the Croat off the hood and Castiel into Dean, before slamming the car into drive and accelerating.  
  
**-0-**  
  
Dean looked in the rear view mirror to Castiel hunched and shivering in the back seat. The heat was blasting, but with no doors, it was whipped away before it could do much good. Dean had grabbed a blanket out of the supplies in the trunk, but it wasn’t all that thick. Dean was driving with the headlights off and looking for a place to stop for the night. He sure wasn’t going to be camping out in his car with Castiel like this.  
  
He was currently passing through Kent on his way to New York. Although civilization wasn’t exactly a good thing right now, with half the population running around trying to eat the other half, he needed buildings more than he needed trees right now.  
  
As the rural roads turned more urban, he watched as houses got closer together. He was driving along a dark road where even the street lights were off. The houses on either side of him had the windows smashed and some of the front doors were hanging limply from one hinge or were broken off completely. Dean stopped in front of one of the houses that looked the least damaged and helped Castiel out and into the house. He placed him on a couch in a front room and went to search the house. Once he was satisfied they were alone, he moved Castiel to the master bedroom and tucked him under the blankets and a thick, puffy comforter.  
  
“I’m gonna see what these people got for food, ok?” Dean didn’t expect a response as he left the room and half closed the door.  
  
**-0-**  
  
Dean woke in a big arm chair in the corner of the master bedroom a few hours later with the early morning sun blinding him. Castiel was no longer in the bed and Dean jumped up.  
  
“Cas?”  
  
He moved to the door and listened. There was sound coming from the kitchen, as well as a burnt smell and he followed it. He found Castiel cooking. Well, Castiel was trying to cook anyway. He looked up when Dean came in.  
  
“I don’t know why you couldn’t just stick to the old fashioned way and cook on a fire.” The stove was electric. Castiel had eggs on the counter and was trying to crack them into a bowl. “Doing this by hand is a lot harder than I was expecting.”  
  
Dean walked over to the toaster and popped up the bread inside, black and smoking.  
  
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten about the bread. I’m fairly certain it was supposed to stop cooking by itself.”  
  
“You had the setting too high.”  
  
Castiel nodded and poured the eggs into the pan on the stove. Dean watched as Castiel picked up a fork and began whisking the eggs.  
  
Dean crossed his arms and leaned on the counter. “Cas?”  
  
“Hmm?” Castiel said without looking up.  
  
“Why are you cooking?” Dean looked around and saw the cereal box he had taken out earlier, before deciding to make himself a burger, was empty now.  
  
Cas stopped whisking the eggs. “I’m hungry.”  
  
He and Dean stood in silence for a bit. That wasn’t good. Castiel had slowly been losing his ability to do anything. Transporting anyone besides himself only worked if the location wasn’t too far away, a block or two at most. He hadn’t been able to heal anyone for a week now. And now he was hungry.  
  
Castiel poked at the eggs although they were done cooking and just stood there. Dean moved in and took the fork from him. He turned off the burner and slid the eggs onto a plate. He handed the eggs to Castiel and made him sit on a stool at the center island in the kitchen. Grabbing new slices of bread, he threw them in the toaster, turning the dial down, and went on to make some eggs for himself.  
  
Without looking away from the stove, Dean spoke. “Any word on Angel Radio?”  
  
“No, still silent,” Castiel said around a mouthful of food.  
  
Dean nodded as his eggs solidified and he turned off the burner. The toaster popped and he grabbed the hot bread, quickly moving it to a plate before shaking out his hand as if he could fling the heat away. He then scooped the eggs on to the plate and sat next to the angel, moving one piece of bread from his plate to Castiel’s.  
  
Dean waited for his food to cool a little. “So, I think we should go back to Bobby’s. We’ll at least have a safe library to look through.”  
  
Cas nodded. “That would be fine.” He looked away from Dean out the window. “We’ll have to drive.”  
  
Dean nodded now and started on his food, not wanting to think about his baby missing 2 doors and her front window. Or Castiel slowly losing his powers and needing sleep and food. Or the angels going quiet after hunting them non-stop for the last 3 years. Or Sam…  
  
“How are you feeling, Cas? Really.”  
  
“I’ll be fine, Dean. That transportation last night took a lot out of me, but nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.” He smiled unconvincingly at Dean, but Dean nodded and took the win.  
  
**-0-**  
  
They were about halfway to Sioux Falls, having to only backtrack a few times.  Panicked civilians had abandoned their cars when they realized driving would be too slow in the ever increasing traffic out of town, and left on foot. In some cases, the people hadn’t left their cars at all and Dean could see pieces of them where they had been ripped apart.  
  
Now the road ahead of them was clear and so flat that he could see for miles. It was a comfort in the fading daylight, but soon it would feel like he was lost adrift in a sea of blackness and he was not looking forward to that. Castiel had taken off his trench coat when the day had gotten warm and was enjoying the breeze. There was a lot of it.  
  
“I want you to teach me about hunting,” Castiel said. They had been quiet for the last hour, Dean changing tapes so the music played softly between them. Dean didn’t answer. Didn’t want to think.  
  
“Dean.” Castiel turned to look at him as he drove. Dean glanced over at him.  
  
“I am helpless without my grace.”  
  
“Don’t,” Dean growled.  
  
“Avoiding the subject doesn’t make it less true. My grace is fading, Dean. I can feel it slipping away. It’s almost gone and I will not be able to help you, or anyone, if you don’t teach me.” He kicked his leg up on the seat and turned even more towards Dean. “This is it. End of the world. But I don’t want to be useless. I don’t want everyone around me be destroyed while I just sit around and watch. I don’t want that, Dean. I made my choice.” Castiel stopped, clearing his throat. “And the angels left me behind. I can deal with that, but…” He look at the road now, watching it disappear beneath them and took a few breaths. When he spoke again, he was quiet and Dean almost missed his words against the wind. “You’re my family now.”  
  
Dean sighed. Castiel was right of course. Avoiding this subject was more likely to get Castiel killed. And it would give him something to focus on.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
**-0-**  
  
In the woods outside Bobby’s house, Dean was showing Castiel how to use his gun. Castiel had shot the Croats that were right next to him in the car the other night, but hopefully he could learn to hit a target from a greater distance.  Castiel wasn’t stupid, Dean knew, he just hadn’t had this type of training. Why learn to use a gun when you can kill people with your mind?  
  
Although the virus had hit the major cities in the US first -- Los Angeles, Houston, Chicago, Boston, Miami – it was spreading fast and even in small, back-country towns like this, they had to be careful not to fire off too many shots in one area lest they attract unwanted attention.  
  
Dean was almost whispering to Castiel as he gave him pointers and ways to think about firing his weapon. Then they would listen for a few moments before Castiel tried out the advice. It was slow, but it was safe. Only nothing was safe now.  Croats were everywhere and unlike zombies, they could reason and plan.  They weren’t really monsters, out looking for a meal.  They were humans, some of them prior hunters, with knowledge on how to sneak up on prey. Which is how they got the jump on Castiel and Dean in the middle of the woods.    
  
**-0-**  
  
Castiel had his usual colt, but Dean was trained to use anything. It wouldn’t do to have a favorite weapon and then get killed because the big bad takes it from you. He had pulled out his spare Mk 23 and was running now.  
  
“Stay with me, Cas.” Behind him Castiel was out of breath, staggering in the blinding sunlight of midday. When did an angel ever have to run before? He glanced back and saw that Castiel was still with him, but the Croats were not letting up. Dean was trying to think of a solution here. He could stop running and give Castiel a chance to get away, but the angry mob behind him would likely just split up and get them both. Plus Castiel probably wouldn’t leave him anyway. So he kept running. Only he didn’t know where he was running to. He didn’t want to lead them back to Bobby’s. Even if they did get in the door unharmed, it wouldn’t hold long and the panic room wasn’t where he wanted to die. These things were smart. Once they locked themselves in there, an endless supply of Croats would be clogging up the exit. The food would run out or Sam would show up, and he was not going down that road.  Think, Dean. Think.  
  
Something was wrong. He couldn’t hear Cas anymore. Or anyone. He spun around and he was alone.  
  
**-0-**  
  
Castiel still had his cell phone and Dean tried calling it. He figured if Castiel wasn’t a Croat—No, Castiel was not a Croat, therefore he would pick up his phone. Dean let it ring for a few minutes as he walked. Not all the cell towers had stopped working. The problem was that the ones that were still running were working overtime and mostly calls were not going through. Still with nothing to connect to, the cell phone defaulted to ringing anyway, just to let the caller know it was trying. It was like Dean was calling someone whose plane went down over water.  
  
“Come on, Cas. Where are you?” Dean wasn’t sure where he was walking, but he kept moving. Finally he ended the call in frustration and shoved the phone back into his pocket. It wasn’t like he expected it to work. He had just hoped.  
  
Dean wandered anxiously around the woods, deciding to go back in the direction they had come from to find some sign of Castiel. He tried to look for the place Dean had last seen Castiel, but the trees were starting to look the same. He knew he had to relax. He had been in these woods more times than he could count over the years. He knew them well. He just had to calm down and think.    
  
Dean stopped walking and took stock. It turned out that he had circled around the area they were shooting in earlier and soon found the clearing. He started marching quickly in the direction they had run, head swiveling left and right for any sign of movement. And then he found Castiel.  
  
**-0-**  
  
Dean had moved up a nearby tree, trying to get a better view of the Croats in the area. How was is that Sam was immune again? Right. Demon blood. Dean started to wonder if drinking the blood now, as an adult, would give him an edge. He shuddered against the idea. Still, how do you get past a wall of Croats? He needed something besides a miracle; those were in short supply lately.  
  
Well, that wasn’t true because Castiel was still alive behind the wall, glowing softly with whatever was left of his grace. Dean watched as Castiel stood still as a stone in the center of a large group of Croats. They had been trying to get at him, but all their attacks just impacted on the surface. Nothing was getting through the glow. Now a group of Croats had broken off and were strategizing. There was maybe 12 of them altogether. Fast, strong and smart. Too many for Dean to take on. Even if he shot a few from up in the tree, he was sure that at least one would be up here with him before he could get them all. Dean hadn’t picked this tree because it was hard to climb.  
  
Dean tried to catch Castiel’s eye, but Castiel didn’t so much as breathe, let alone look randomly up into the trees. As he watched, the glow surrounding Castiel started to flicker. What choice did he have? Time to go down swinging. He fired into the crowd hitting a Croat in the head, and as expected, they all turned and started running for the tree he was in. Dean took time to aim each shot right at a Croats head.  Luckily his Mk 23 pistol had a full clip and he had gotten in the habit of loading one in the chamber. So he had 13 bullets for 12 monsters. He could work with that.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Three more down.

He could fire faster as his targets got bigger, but he was running out of time. And now that they were at the tree with him, he had to fire down between his feet to hit them, holding on to the trunk as they shook the tree while climbing. More fell out of the tree, but not enough. He shot one that had been grabbing at his foot and it knocked into the one below it, but there were still more just below him, reaching and pulling at him.

Dean caught a glimpse of Castiel on the ground, out of the trance and staring at Dean in horror. He just hopped Castiel would understand why he was doing this. That he would run.

He turned back to his current problem and started pulling the trigger again. Too many Croats at once rushed up the gap between them, and he was done. Dean couldn’t get a head in his sights long enough to shoot and so a few bullets were wasted on torso shots even as they climbed his body, spitting blood at him.  He held his breath to postpone the inevitable.  Once that blood got inside him, the Croats wouldn’t care anymore.  They would leave him alone in the tree and let him change in his own time. 

That seemed to be the higher mission above eating people and shambling around.  They really just wanted more people to be like them.  Maybe it was a spiteful thing, more than a mission.  I have to be like this. Why shouldn’t you?  Dean figured he’d find out in a moment.  Suddenly Castiel was on the branch next to him glowing brightly.  Dean had to shut his eyes against the light.  He felt the hands on him fall away as the glow faded.  He opened his eyes to see the remaining Croats falling out of the tree, limp and lifeless.  He turned to Castiel, whose eyes still glowed with power, to find him not standing on a branch, but rather just floating next to him.  
  
“Cas, no.” Dean tried to reach for Castiel.  
  
The light went out of Castiel’s eyes, not in the usual way, where they faded back to blue, but rather the light left his eyes in the manner of an angel leaving a vessel through the mouth.  White wisps of grace floated away into the sky, and Castiel fell.  
  
**-0-**  
  
What was it, 30 compressions and 2 breaths? Dean though that sounded right and was giving Castiel CPR.  The frantic climb down the tree, where he had to be sure to not so much as scratch himself on any branches because he was covered in Croat blood, seemed to take forever.  He pulled Castiel away from the other bodies and found him not breathing, no pulse.  It didn’t happen like in the movies.  Castiel didn’t gasp and sit up, miraculously fine. But his heart started and he was breathing again.  When he did not wake, Dean carried him, fireman style, back to Bobby’s house.  
  
Bobby sent them both to the panic room, watched Dean get Castiel’s now-bloody trench coat off and lay him on the bed on the edge of the room, then Bobby locked them in there and rolled upstairs. The recently installed ramp took up much of the basement now. Most of the back entrance was also mostly ramp, heading up to the second floor, but at least Bobby could still get around his house. And it had given Dean something to focus on for a while. In a few hours, once Bobby was sure they weren’t infected, he would let them out.  Dean stripped off the bloody clothing and placed them in a small, metal bucket in the center of the room. On top, he set the trench coat. Finally, he lit a match and threw it on the pile. He watched the fire burning, destroying the virus in the blood. He set about washing himself with a solution they had thrown together a few weeks ago.  It took more than alcohol wipes to kill a demon virus.  The liquid burned a little and smelled horrible, but it was better than being a zombie.  He washed Castiel’s hands and face in it too. Castiel sure wasn’t faking; no one slept with this stuff near their nose.  
  
When Bobby let them out, handing him a clean towel, Castiel still wasn’t awake.  Dean took a shower and made himself a sandwich before going to sit with Castiel.  
  
“What’s wrong with him, Bobby?” Dean asked dragging one of the few chair closer to the cot.  
  
“I don’t know,” Bobby answered from the other side of the room, sitting near the small table.  “His grace has been fading, right?  Maybe that’s it.  He’s all out.”  
  
Dean shook his head in denial. He took Castiel’s hand in his, the sandwich all but forgotten next to him, and watched the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest.  As long as that kept happening, there was hope.  Focus on that.  Don’t think about anything else.  Don’t think.  
  
**-0-**  
  
A week later, Dean and Bobby were in the library when they heard a torturous scream from upstairs.  
  
“Cas,” said Dean bolting to the hall.  They had moved Castiel up here to the bedroom when he showed no signs of waking. The scream turned into an agonized cry.  
  
Dean ran into the room. Crying in anguish, Castiel had fallen out of bed and he trembled on the floor, clutching his body. His eyes were clamped shut with the sheer pain and his breathing came out shallow and harsh. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and covered his forehead in a thin sheen.  
  
“Bobby!” Dean called and he knelt next to Castiel pulling him close, but Bobby was already coming into the room with a small metal tin.  He heaved himself out of the chair landing heavily on the floor next to them, and opened the box. Bobby took out a syringe and filled it from a small vial as Dean ran his hand through Castiel’s hair.  Bobby expertly plunged the needle into Castiel, while Dean held him as still as he could manage.   Gradually, Castiel fell into a drug induced coma and lay still.  
  
Dean looked up at Bobby, his eyes full of concern.  Dean helped Bobby back into his chair and then got Castiel back into bed.  
  
“We’re probably gonna want to set up an IV,” Bobby said matter-of-factly.    
  
**-0-**  
  
Dean sat with Castiel whenever he could unless Bobby made him eat or patrol or go on runs to stalk up on dry food. That will be fun to consume, Dean thought. He was restless though.  He needed something to focus on and patrolling was a good a task as any. The only problem was Dean's mind started to attack him.

You were supposed to protect Sammy. It doesn't matter how grown up he thinks he is; he obviously made the wrong choice. Even after he decided to get out of the game, you should have gone to him. Dean indulged all the evil thoughts his mind created for him.  Was he liable for the human race? He had broken the first seal.

Dean did not like to be alone. That was when the thoughts started percolating to the surface. Better to sit with Castiel and hope he woke up soon.

News reached Dean as the world degraded around him: Sam had said ‘Yes’ in Detroit. Well he wanted to give up. Looks like he did a good job of it. Why couldn't you keep fighting, Sam? Why couldn't you have been stronger? Of course, it came back around to being Dean’s fault. Sam wasn't strong enough and Dean should have been there to help him fight. But Dean hadn't been and now it was too late.  Castiel was his fault too, but he could probably still help him.

**-0-**

Castiel now had a tube coming from his arm going to a bag hanging on the headboard. Dean was sitting next to him on a chair late one evening, a soft lamp the only light in the room, when Castiel's eyes opened and stared at the ceiling.

“Cas?” Dean leaned forward in the chair. Castiel however did not say anything for a long while. Dean was content to give him time and leaned back into his chair again. His eye watched Castiel.  
  
Finally, without looking away from the ceiling he opened his mouth.  
  
“I can feel everything,” Castiel’s voice cracked, his throat dry from misuse. “Everything.”  
  
“What?” Dean's brow furrowed, but he didn't move.

“And yet...oh God...I am empty. Jimmy? Where are you?  I am lost.” Castiel swallowed hard. “Is this what it is to be human? Constantly hurting, no relief, and all that...space…”  His eyes welled, wet and glistening in the lamp light. A tear rolled from his eye into his ear but he didn't wipe it away.

Dean wasn't even sure Castiel was talking to him.

Now the silence stretched on. The clock on the wall was ticking double time with Castiel’s breathing. Dean leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees.

“Cas?”

Castiel's eyes flash wide for a second as if he was surprised Dean was in the room with him before Castiel slowly turned his head to the side. Angry eyes locking with Dean’s. He still said nothing, but held his mouth tight.

“Cas?” Dean said, more softly. “Are you alright?”

He slowly turned back to the ceiling.

“No, I'm not alright, Dean. I lost all of my grace. It was ripped out and I am alone. My brothers and sisters abandoned me, Dean as you have done to Sam.  They won’t be back for me.  Not now that I am human. The performed the great escape and have gone away. Even I don’t know where.  Instead of trying, you all just keep giving up. What else do you have left to give to this dying world.  I could have gone with them.  I should have gone with them. But instead I chose you.  And look where that got me. If Michael no longer wants, you why should I. Dean Winchester, the righteous man who spilled blood in hell and started all this. Why do I keep saving you? Why did I pick this life? Sure, I've made my choice, and I think I was wrong.” It was like a flood pouring out of Castiel and setting him free. Except this freedom came with the price of lost friendships.  

Dean knew it was just the drugs talking, and the never-before felt pain, but part of him also thought that Castiel had always felt this way. That he spent his days wondering why he had saved Dean at all.  That the world would have been better off without Dean in it.  And Dean agreed.  Dean could have saved his brother a whole lot of trouble if he had never gotten out of hell.  Although, Sam wouldn’t have had to worry about the seals breaking if Dean had never broken the first one. So even his going to hell was a bad thing.  Even dead, he wasn’t strong enough to save anyone.  He stood up.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He cringed at the thought of Castiel’s response.

“Dean,” Castiel called out to him as he passed through the door.

Dean stopped and turned staring past Castiel to the wall. He didn’t think he could hold himself together if he looked at Castiel.

“Can you get me some more of this stuff?” He indicated the bag of drugs with a nod of his head.

Dean huffed a desperate laugh and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll send Bobby in.” Dean turned again and walked out of the room. The end was coming and Dean planned to keep running even if he had to do it alone.

 


End file.
